Sin and Salvation
by notourmoniker
Summary: One-shots based loosely on Dante's Divine Comedy. Romantic SnowQueen.
1. Treachery

Snow White's childhood was something she rarely spoke of. She was sure that others assumed that she was hesitant to speak of whatever horrors she lived through in her time sharing a home with the Evil Queen.

But Regina's temper had not always been quick to flare, to burn like fire in the palm of her hand.

She had once been ice.

The memories of their shared life were cold, frigid, and it was a wonder that the goodness and warmth in Snow White did not freeze along with Regina's.

She remembered as a child how she craved warmth. Her father was doting, but he could not give her the friendship, the _love_ she had hoped Regina would provide.

But the girl on the horse faded into darkness and cold as the queen continuously denied whatever genuine and selfless connection they may have had.

And as Snow grew, she wept for the loss.

Slowly, her family's palace was removed from all light and warmth, and she could only fault the person who had once embodied both of those things.

But now, standing in front of Daniel's grave, Snow realized how deeply Regina was hurting, how deeply she had _always_ been hurting.

And Snow, who had never wanted anything other than to see Regina happy, to be the cause of her happiness, finally saw how _she_ was to blame for all the ice between them.

Each time she had spoken of love, each time she had trusted Cora to have her daughter's best interests at heart, each time she had believed her father could do no wrong, could act with nothing but kindness, she had been betraying Regina.

She had imprisoned her in a palace away from everything she had ever loved and wanted.

Her every act had been a betrayal of the person who taught her the meaning of true love. The person who had shown her who she wanted to be.

Quiet sobs rose in her throat, and she should have been ashamed that David was far from her mind.

Instead she looked at Regina, and saw the hate and anguish in her eyes. She saw how she had condemned them both to unyielding cold.

And as Snow let the pain of this run through her, she bit into the apple and let the ice of her own treachery encase her.


	2. Fraud

Regina would come to commit many sins, but few would affect her and the woman she would become as deeply as those first ten.

* * *

The first was committed on her wedding day. Cora was whispering in her ear about how her beauty and her _kindness_ had _seduced_ the King. Now she need only keep his bed warm until things were in place for her to kill him and take his throne.

"It was what you were born for dear, you should thank me for ridding you of that distraction in the stables."

Her mother had said it with a note of pride, just before Regina pushed her into the mirror.

But not before what had been said wormed its way into her heart.

And that night as Leopold breathed heavily on top of her, his fingers digging into her like whips, she vowed to never be kind again.

* * *

The second sin was tied to Snow White as many of them would come to be.

"Regina, look! I won another ribbon!"

Snow was too old to be so desperate for attention, but Regina only smiled a tight lined grin and said.

"Of course dear, there is no finer rider than you."

As she said it she realized how deep loyalty to the Princess ran in this kingdom of waste.

* * *

The next had come when Regina was presiding beside Leopold in court. He rarely allowed her to participate, but it was a novelty to keep such a young and beautiful wife at his side.

A young woman knelt before them on charges of murdering her husband.

Though this woman had clearly been in a bad marriage, Regina watched as Leopold's brows furrowed skeptically at this woman's clear lack of remorse. Of course, he would not have recognized unhappiness where it should have been evident. So before he could give his verdict Regina broke etiquette and spoke.

"You will return to you family a free woman, but all of your husband's possessions will be turned over to the crown in exchange."

As the woman was escorted out, the Queen saw Snow White slip in, her eyes glimmering in admiration at Regina having saved another life.

But the rest of the court only saw the Queen's perverse version of justice, and as she made her way to her chambers her head ached and feet burned as she walked through their incredulous stares.

* * *

When she had started to train with Rumpelstiltskin it had taken her months to master the fire ball.

Finally, when she did she could not help but picture the many ways she would use this power to make Snow White suffer and die.

In her magic she found hope and certainty for her future. The first time since Daniel's death.

But there were also times that she felt as if her head was on backwards. Flashes of memory about the young girl she had saved from the horse clouded her visions of revenge.

Regina knew that this was this was the punishment for her fourth sin.

* * *

The fifth sin was not fully her own.

A vacancy in the dark guard gave the Queen an opportunity to assert herself as more than the King's accompaniment.

Scouring through those that may have been worthy, she could find no man disloyal to the King and his fair daughter.

So Regina went outside of the castle to find someone who would suit her, a man to keep her confidence.

The one she found was cruel and selfish. But he was one of the first to see the virtues in serving the Queen, even if that virtue could be counted in gold pieces every month he served her interests above those of the King he had sworn fealty to.

And though Regina wanted to be unaffected by what she had to do to find allies in a castle that would never feel like home, she felt her stomach heat and churn every time she paid him, sure that her hands were marked with the black tar of their dark dealings.

* * *

The next sin should have been little more than a small deceit.

"Do you love my father, Regina?" Snow asked with too much innocence for the young woman she was becoming.

"Of course dear" she had answered without looking up from the book she was reading.

But Snow came closer and placed her hands on the arms of Regina's chair.

"Do you love him as much as you loved Daniel?"

The question made her heart pang as old pain was refreshed, but she buried it and looked at the girl before her with cool eyes and and a strained smile.

"Yes dear, just as much as I loved Daniel."

For reasons, she did not yet understand Snow stormed from the room at her response.

After a moment, sure that her step-daughter had gone, Regina stood and tried not to crumple under the weight of her lie and her lost love.

* * *

When time had passed and Regina did come to understand Snow's distress that day in the library, she committed her seventh sin.

Snow's lips were soft, too soft, and Regina pushed her harder up against the stone wall where she had cornered the Princess. Then she bit along Snow's lower lip making their encounter rougher than a first kiss should be.

But Snow only responded to the pain by pushing further into her.

Backing away from the younger woman, Regina smirked coldly.

"You're sure you haven't done this before, dear? I'd hate to tell your father that you'd been cavorting with young men behind his back."

She took a moment of pleasure as she watched Snow's cheeks redden, her too soft lips trembling, as the young woman pushed her away and ran to her room.

Regina's laughter followed her down the hall.

But that night, when Regina was alone, her rest was fitful as she dreamed of serpents coiling around her heart, punishing her for taking something precious. Something that she did not think was hers to take.

* * *

The next sin was man possible by the genie.

It had not taken so long to see in him, what had taken her years to notice in Snow.

But where she wanted to hurt the Princess, she wanted to _use_ her father's newest prize.

All it took were a few carefully spoken words, some subtle glances, and a mere suggestion, and he had killed the King in her name.

He had done it for false promises and thinly veiled deception.

She felt the fire of his fury around her he wished himself a prisoner. Yet, as Regina burned she smiled at her victory and the genie's willingness to be manipulated.

How could he have thought she would ever love him? There was no love for her in this life, not anymore.

* * *

She had sent Snow away to be killed. It should have been a moment of triumph for her, but Regina's temper flared as she felt no measure of peace or resolution.

Perhaps when she saw the girl's heart the fulfillment she should be feeling, the fulfillment she had told herself she would feel, would come.

But for now, she had to try and take solace with the knowledge that she had destroyed the life of the person she professed to hate above all others.

Only that thought caused a soul deep pain in her. A pain that felt as though she had been hacked to pieces by her own darkness.

Regina had torn apart what was always meant to be united and she wondered briefly - before pushing the thought and the torment down away from her conscious mind - if there could be a greater sin.

* * *

But then came the tenth, the one that broke her. Though some may have called it negligible after all else she had done, it was the culmination of her sins.

She had put a bounty on Snow White's head. She had given a price to her life, and condemned them both to their roles as Evil Queen and Pure Princess.

This sin created a reality that should not have been.

Yet, the falsehood wasn't just that Snow was a bandit and traitor to the throne. The real falsity was in Regina pinning her hate on the woman she could have cared for in another life.

The truth that would have led them both towards repentance was that all Regina ever hated was herself.

She hated the parts of her that were weakness obscured by magic and anger. She hated how afraid she was of becoming her mother. She hated that she lashed out at others to deflect from her own misery. She hated that she could feel her darkness consuming her like a disease, a sickness that was all anyone saw when they looked at her.

And she hated that Snow White was the savior who would suffer for Regina's sins.


	3. Violence

Regina sat in her room measuring ingredients for the curse that promised to finally bring her revenge. Her lip quirked as she mixed powders and potions that should have made her ill with knowing what they were and where they had come from.

But she had no sorrow left for anguish that was not her own. And as she sat, absorbed in her work, she felt sorrow and pain turn to vindictive anger and the pride of impending victory.

She would damn the world, damn her pretended subjects, be thrown willingly into a pool of boiling blood and fire if it would hurt Snow White.

With this curse, Regina would kill everything both of them had become.

The thought made her hand shake slightly, causing her to spill the dark green ooze she had been pouring out. Cursing, her heart seized as though she had been struck with something pointed.

But it was a pain she had learned to endure over a lifetime full of violence and agony. Though that was in no small part the result of her own actions, what other life was there for her here? Her path to happiness had been obstructed by Snow White, and it was no longer enough to simply clear the way.

She wanted Snow to suffer as she had. To feel hot falling ash upon her skin as Regina had felt. To feel the degree of her guilt like fire in her veins. She wanted Snow to remain fixed and contorted in a persona that would be an insult to all she was.

And in Snow's misery, Regina told herself that she would be free of her own.

For though fate had bound them, she knew that only one of them could be happy at a time.

And Regina was determined to claim her turn.

No measure of pain, no measure of sadness or hesitance, no measure of _violence_ would stop her from casting the curse and destroying all that had unjustly granted Snow so much love and granted Regina nothing but loss.

Yet, as much as her curse would be an act of destruction, so too would it be one of creation.

Regina intended to rearrange the order that would have her live in torment while Snow White found happiness with her prince. It would be a new order between them, unnatural though it may be.

But what existed between she and Snow had never been natural.

Despite the love the younger woman had once proclaimed for her, Regina knew that like all things in her life that love would gnarl and rot. She told herself it would only serve to hurt her more.

And so it had.

So Regina would build a new world, a place where the knotted and fruitless tree of her old life would sit in its center. It would be a testament to the life she would finally take from Snow White, to the life she would rid herself of, and to everything that had kept her from doing both sooner.


	4. Heresy

In Snow White's dreams she remembered Regina's touches. They were gentle and pressing, too kind for the cool anger within her eyes that kept her heart far out of reach.

But as she woke, startled by memories that had not come to her in months, she only felt David's arms - her fiancee's arms - securely holding her.

It should have been a comfort, to wake from what she wanted so badly to call a nightmare, and find his strength and love surrounding her. Instead, she was suddenly restless and uneasy. Extricating herself from their tangle of limbs, she rose and wandered out of their joint chambers.

As she walked she found herself in one of the formal sitting rooms they used to host guests. Plush couches and velvet tapestries gave off an aura of comfort as Snow lit candles and tried to forget what had caused her to wake.

But the unmistakeable prickle of magic, made her spine go straight and senses alert at an encroaching danger.

In a cloud of purple smoke, Regina was in front of her. She sat leisurely, as though she was not trespassing in the home of her most hated enemy.

Snow felt a rush go through her at the sight, and tried to reason that it was one of anger instead of excitement.

"What are you doing here?" She asked while reaching for anything that might make a suitable weapon.

As her fingers wrapped around a heavy brass candlestick, the Queen only laughed, her red lips turning up in a smirk.

"I think the question is why you are up at such an hour? Pre-wedding jitters?"

Her tone was mocking, and there was a palpable energy surrounding them - dark and threatening. Who it belonged to was indiscernible.

"No."

She said it too quickly and too defensively. Regina's brow quirked.

Then the composure she was trying so hard to maintain was betrayed as her face colored. The dreams that had woken her suddenly flashed through her mind.

The Queen leaned forward in her seat, as she watched her former step-daughter struggle with the barrage of memories and emotion that had descended upon her.

"Did you do this?" Snow asked quietly. Her voice wavered with a weakness she tried to mask in accusation.

"Oh, I didn't do anything." Regina stood now, closing the space between them and running a finger along Snow's cheek. "It appears that I simply have excellent timing."

Then their lips met, and Snow wanted to believe it had been Regina who moved first.

The kiss burned with feelings that she should have been strong enough to abandon by now. It was every kind of painful. So, before they could deepen it, she pushed Regina away.

"Don't. I love Charming."

The older woman laughed again, and dammit if Snow didn't hate that laugh.

"Who are you trying to convince, dear? You might tell yourself you love him, but what we have-" She nipped at Snow's jaw, watching her green eyes flutter closed at the sensation. "- is so much better."

"No." She protested. "This hurts. It shouldn't hurt, Regina."

And it did hurt, but as Regina stepped away, her heart clenched at the distance.

She shut her eyes and tried to think of David just down the hall. Her Prince Charming who was good and kind and would never do anything to hurt her.

But when she opened her eyes again, she found Regina had once more closed the space between them. She wanted to be upset at herself for letting her guard down, but found it difficult with the Queen's hands holding possessively to her hips.

They made eye contact, and Snow licked her lips before she could think not to.

As Regina's hands glided up to her waist, she shivered. Their mouths met again, and it was achingly familiar. Snow felt her skin tingle and her legs wobble as she remembered a time when this was all she wanted. When she had not yet learned that it would only ever bring her pain instead of the happiness she sought.

Pushing her body into Regina's, she let go of the candlestick and gripped at the heavy material of her dress. It was a stark departure from her own thin night clothes.

Their lips parted, and teeth and tongues bit and sucked until one of them let out a breathy moan. She felt Regina's hands everywhere. First on her stomach, then her breasts, then on her back keeping their bodies pressed together.

Snow's thoughts were clouded and she didn't realize that she had been lifted onto a nearby oak desk until the cool evening air hit the tops of her thighs. Regina was pulling up the hem of her shift, and Snow wrapped her arms around the older woman's neck holding them close. They were both breathing heavily, but Snow's lungs spasmed in a sharp gasp as she felt a hand slide between her legs. Fingernails scratched at soft skin, just beyond where she longed for contact.

Resting her head on Regina's shoulder, she silently implored the other woman to stop teasing. As if she knew what Snow was thinking, Regina pushed slightly into her folds while her thumb circled lightly around her clit. Snow's hips canted trying to find more pressure, but Regina removed her hand and Snow could have cursed. The Queen held the hand between them, coated in Snow's weakness, evidence of her desire.

"It may hurt, but it seems that Snow White isn't as opposed to a little pain as she might like to pretend."

Snow stared at her, anger bubbling. She thought about reaching again for the candlestick.

Instead she tugged at Regina's neck, bringing them together in a rough kiss. This time there was no teasing as two fingers slipped inside of her in a quick and controlled rhythm.

Snow's head found its place on her shoulder again, and she whispered hotly against Regina's ear.

"I hate you."

She could almost feel the Queen smirk in response.

There was something profoundly wrong with what they were. There was a blasphemy, a sacrilege in the hate they so ardently professed for each other. Snow knew that the way she would certainly feel when this encounter was over only testified to that. But now she couldn't fight the way her senses burned at Regina's nearness, the way her body reacted to every stroke and caress.

When the coil that had been building in her since she had woken restless next to her fiancee finally released with a shudder and heated cry, Regina slowly removed her hand.

Their bodies were still close. They looked at each other, and a terrible moment passed when the energy that surrounded them was no longer dark and threatening. It was something else that only settled on them in these moments, but that made it no less palpable.

Just before they broke apart, they kissed. It was soft and warm and deceptive. It wasn't love, Snow told herself. It had a different flavor than what she recognized, different from David, different from any other she had kissed or could imagine kissing. It was distinctly Regina, and oh god did it hurt.

Regina must have felt the pain too, because she backed away a cold walled off look on her face.

Snow stood straightening her clothes, ignoring the clinging wetness between her legs.

"Best get back to bed before your Prince wakes to find his bride-to-be defiled. It would be such a shame to start your married life with him fully aware of his inadequacies."

As she was about to fire back at Regina for something that had been spoken for cruelty's sake, her heart clenched again. For all the anger in her words, she stood tense and distant, the space between them appearing as vast landscape of anguish. They each had everywhere to run but were no less within a cage.

Snow could deny the truth all she wanted, but there would never be world where she and Regina were not pulled together. They would always be drawn to the other just as they had been tonight.

But before she had a chance to speak, to say anything that might have reasserted or broken down the boundaries that kept them apart, Regina was gone in a puff of purple smoke.

So Snow returned to her chamber where she coaxed David awake and kissed him deeply, trying to use his lips to erase the memory of Regina's.

"I love you." She whispered to him through the darkness. Yet, the words only made her feel buried alive as what would soon be their marriage bed turned to flame at her heresy.


	5. Anger

He had little experience in the company of royals, more accustomed to the openness of the forest and the freedom it provided. Even so, he was sure that this Queen was unlike any other.

Of course, she was beautiful and carried herself with the comportment demanded by her role, but the finery she wore and the grace with which she moved did little to disguise her ferocity.

He could recognize bloodlust when he saw it.

Even living among wolves did little to prepare him for how she snarled, how her wrath bubbled to the surface disrupting her beauty when she spoke of Snow White.

This woman had a raw untamed anger in her that threatened to drown her should she ever misstep.

And as she told him why she called for him, what she wanted of him, her elegance made her seem all the sharper as she became a wild thing with claws and teeth and barely contained violence.

But any war she might desire to wage was of no concern to him. Her trade was fair - the wolves of the forest for a single culled sheep.

Yet, a heart was such an intimate thing to ask for.

Still, he agreed and went to find the Princess.

When he found her, she was not what he had expected.

Thinking she would run and fight with an open anger comparable to the woman who wanted her dead, he only saw a young girl sullenly resigned to her fate.

Snow White was already drowning in the sorrow of both of their pain - choked by anger she did not feel entitled to and willing to reject her own life to be free of it.

Her passivity in the face of death and her request that he take a letter to the Queen showed him that there was more here than politics. It was more than mere competition or resentment. It was something he did not know enough of to name. Yet, he knew that both the Queen in all her fury and the Princess in all her despair were suffering.

Both walking the line between life and death, love and hate, rage and desolation.

And he found himself unable to act, unsure if this death would end their pain or prolong it.

So, he let her go and returned to the palace with the letter and fawn's heart.

It was a deceit that would cost him his own heart and fuel the anger between these two women.

An anger that would drown them both and the world with them.


	6. Greed

Snow learned quickly that Regina had ways of watching her.

She might pass a calm and reflective body of water or too ably polish her hunting knife, only to find herself surrounded by the Queen's dark knights soon after.

It happened in such patterned ways, that she knew when to be vigilant, when to run, and where she needed to go to be out of sight.

For months she had thought this was how things would be between them.

But that belief was upended one day in early evening as Regina herself materialized in the middle of Snow White's camp.

The sight of her after so long and so much, caused a burst of memories from their life together.

Snow had been spoiled, well loved, and accustomed to having her every desire fulfilled. But as she had come into herself, she found she craved a thing that she would never have in full.

She was desperate for Regina. It was a singular want that should have easily been reigned in by her better instincts. Yet, despite the control she pretended to have over it, she hoarded every glance and passing touch while spending all her time and energy trying to accumulate more.

And as time went on her yearning became so avaricious she felt as though it had gained mass and dimension, rolling alongside her everywhere she went.

Still, she fed it without a thought.

But Regina kept her attention and love closely guarded leading to a mutual ache between them - one that Snow gave into too easily and Regina too quickly rejected. She dismissed Snow's affection as if it had no worth. She knew how greedy Snow was for her and how she hurt and hungered when deprived.

Though, since her expulsion from the palace, that deprivation had begun to quiet the cravings that once ruled her. She still hurt, but it was more bearable than the fresh and heavy pain that came from being so near to Regina and her unobtainable love.

Her hate, in many ways, was a palatable justification for the violence that had erupted between them. It offered a simple explanation as to why they had been drawn together in suffering and opposition.

So seeing her now, Snow expected her heart to be ripped from her chest.

She thought about running, but considering that she would need to outrun magic, it seemed futile. Her eyes then darted to her quiver and knife, just out of reach. She cursed herself for her carelessness.

As Regina stepped closer she braced herself, thinking she would die without a word passing between them.

But then their lips met, and her old and unfulfilled appetites flared and were reawakened. Part of her thought death would have done less damage.

Sucking lightly on Regina's lower lip, the kiss deepened. It was all fire and tongues and teeth. It weighted her, and she felt herself fall to the forest floor, pulling Regina on top of her, and pressing their bodies together.

Arching her back at the contact, she realized how badly she wanted this, how much she had missed it. And when Regina's hands moved between them to undo the laces of her corset, she realized how badly Regina wanted it too.

It shouldn't have been surprising, the weight of the feelings between them, whether hate or love, generosity or greed, pleasure or pain, wore on them. They each bore burdensome feelings, heavy and ineluctable, and always bringing them together.

When her corset came loose, Regina pushed the material down revealing Snow's chest.

Running her fingers lightly over the newly revealed skin, she kissed a trail down her neck to the valley between her breasts.

For just a moment, Snow let herself think it was over. The guard would be called off, the wanted posters taken down, and they could both finally have peace.

But then Regina rolled a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinched. The thrill of it was so sharp that Snow gasped, and her mind cleared for just a moment.

Pushing at Regina's shoulders, she forced space between them.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice broken and soft.

Regina's face was expressionless and cold.

"Because _you_ want it."

Then she slid down Snow's body, pulling off her boots and trousers.

Suddenly exposed, she watched as Regina dipped a finger into her folds.

"And because it appears that you missed me."

Shivering at the sensation of her touch and her words, she almost melted when she felt Regina's mouth replace the finger.

Snow shut her eyes tightly, lost in a mix of desire and misery - each building along with her release.

When she came, she cried out breathily.

"I don't-"

Regina pulled back. Her mouth glistened in the fading sunlight.

"I don't want this." Snow was crying.

Even after everything she was still so weak.

Doing her best to tamp down the devastation and the rage that coursed through her - mixing too easily with the lingering feeling of sex - she propped herself up on her elbows.

" _This_ , was never what I wanted from you."

Regina smiled at her, cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. Snow's eyelids fluttered closed, but when they opened Regina was standing, a dark sneer spreading across her face.

"Oh, Snow…I know that."

The cruelty in the words fractured the air around them, and Snow scrambled backwards reaching for her bow. As her fingers made contact with its smooth and well worn wood she turned to attack, but all that was left of Regina was a puff of purple smoke.

Alone again, emptiness and anguish descended on her. She wept into her hands, waves of shame coming with each breath.

She should have known that this would happen. Even when they had lived together Regina's genuine kindnesses were few. Since Snow had been forced from the castle, it should have been evident that no more would come. She had thought that she had grown in their time apart, that she had matured beyond her naivety, but she had allowed Regina to take her in the woods. She had wanted it.

It was too clear now that they were pitted against each other. The weight of their respective desires colliding, even at the cost of shaking the world around them, and crushing others in their conflict.

As her tears slowed, Snow stood and dressed. Surveying her camp she noticed the glint of an iron buckle illuminated by the setting sun. She walked towards it, and buried it in dirt with the toe of her boot. Then she packed her sparse belongings and headed deeper into the forest.

Though she tried to forget the encounter, she found herself thinking of little else. Days and then weeks passed. Still, her greed pulsed within her, and Snow White was forced to acknowledge that she was willing to pay whatever pain for the pleasure - however minuscule - Regina could give her.

And as she replayed their meeting over and over again in her mind, she also realized that Regina would pay those pleasures - however brief - just to see Snow White in pain.

Because it was the heartache, the unhappiness, the remaining longing that hurt the most.

So in the years to follow, when she was weak and felt the tireless yearning she knew was not hers alone, Snow would still too long before a metal gauntlet or silver coin. Then she would wait for Regina to come to her, so they could feed their hunger together and wear away at any hope of satiation.


	7. Gluttony

The ball was lively, with food and music of the latest fashion and highest expense. Guests were dressed in velvet finery, gathering in opulent halls to honor the Queen on her birthday.

But Regina knew they were not here for her. No one in this castle or the kingdom it lay within cared for her.

The nobility, the lords and ladies, any fool with power and wealth were there only to appease the king and his daughter - the young and beautiful Snow White.

And what a show Leopold put on for them as he and Snow spun circles on the dance floor, broad smiles on each of their faces as onlookers clapped at the display of familial affection.

All the while, the one who was meant to be celebrated sat alone at a table with a glass of wine, getting dizzy as she watched her husband and stepdaughter twirl in the center of the room.

Waving her hand, Regina summoned a nearby servant. Already familiar with what she wanted, he quickly refilled her cup.

She had spent the night seeing Leopold and Snow chat amicably, laugh openly, and dance. They partook in all of the pleasures provided at a royal event, never minding that she had quickly been left to her loneliness.

Seeing them enjoy themselves caused an onslaught of emotions that she struggled to manage. Envy, sadness, hatred, and a powerful desire to become numb to the world all tore through her like sleet. But with each surge of feeling, she reached for her glass and took a long drink.

It was quickly resulting in a quiet drunkenness, one that made her more unwell than at ease. Her head was too full, sloshing with putrid waters where once her clear headed indignation had resided. It was unpleasant, but still a welcome distraction from the scene before her.

The King and Princess were indulging in each other, lost in happiness, and blind to the misery of others. Together they flaunted a life that Regina would never have, one of happiness and love. Since her marriage, not once had her husband ever danced with her. Not once had Snow treated Regina as more than a pet. Not once had either of them seen her pain for it was.

Taking another long drink from her cup, she scooted farther back into the shadows, silently cursing the same rot upon her husband and his child that she felt each day she remained their captive.

The thought brought little comfort, and she found herself staring again into an empty glass.

As the party wore on guests slowly trickled out of the dance hall. Regina propped her head in her hand and watched them go, only wishing she could leave as easily. She idly wondered if she would even have the poise to walk to the door without falling considering how much she had been drinking.

With her eyes on the exit, she failed to notice the young girl approaching her.

"Regina?"

Her head rolled lazily towards the sound, only to see Snow White sitting in the empty chair beside her.

"Are you enjoying your party?"

Regina smiled sickly.

"Of course, dear. It's been a lovely night."

Her words slurred slightly, but the young princess's face lit up. Like her father, she only saw what she wanted to and was easily placated by obvious lies.

"I'm so glad!"

Snow grinned at her, and Regina took in her round face and pink cheeks.

"Father said you wouldn't want gifts, but I got you something anyway."

At this, her interest piqued. Perhaps she had too soon lumped Snow in with her father. She _was_ only a girl, not much older now than when Regina had met her. Maybe, there was someone within this palace who cared for her.

Snow White glanced down towards her lap, where a box tied with a pale blue ribbon rested. She lifted it and handed it over gingerly. Regina tried to sharpen her thoughts as she pulled the ribbon loose.

"They're binoculars."

Regina held the silver eye piece as Snow began to speak.

"I know you get headaches when you have to squint, but I asked Johanna and she said that these might make it easier for you to watch me at my riding lessons."

Snow kept talking but her voice was drowned out as Regina recalled what the young girl was referring to - moments when she had wanted Regina to accompany her to her riding lesson, when she was desperate for her stepmother to watch her, and when Regina had given the excuse of headaches and eyestrain because it had been too painful to go along.

Even now, just being near horses and stables brought back flashes of secret kisses and first love, a runaway horse, an unwanted proposal, a plan to elope, and the horrible sound Daniel had made when her mother had crushed his heart.

Suddenly, Regina was furious. How could Snow not have seen how much anguish she was in each time she yielded to her selfish requests?

This wasn't a gift for her. Snow was gifting herself. It was the gift of Regina's presence, her docility, her suffering and submission.

Cruel words crept up her throat, but she did as her mother had taught her and swallowed them, forcing herself to smile even as tears rimmed her eyes.

"It's a lovely gift, dear. Thank you."

Snow's smile grew even wider and she lunged at Regina, hugging her tightly.

"I'm so pleased you like it."

Knowing she would be unable to speak without her voice cracking in either anger or pain, Regina said nothing.

"I must go now. I promised father we would share the last dance." Snow said as she pulled away. Then she stood and practically skipped back out to the dance floor where her doting father waited.

At her departure, Regina was left to sit and wallow in the cold heavy sludge of her old heartbreaks and her fresh pains. She waved her hand and her glass was refilled. Taking a long drink, she watched as Snow White took advantage of every freedom and luxury, never recognizing how her self-indulgence affected Regina's restraint.


	8. Lust

When Snow White was a child, she dreaded nights in the castle. Darkness filled the rooms and endless corridors, and drafts flickered candles casting shadows on stone walls. It sparked Snow's imagination, making her fearful and restless. More than once she awoke with tears in her eyes.

On those nights, she would creep into her mother's chambers. Eva would run her fingers through Snow's dark hair and whisper words of comfort. In her love and gentle presence Snow overcame her anxieties. Even in the wake of Eva's death, the fears that had once plagued her grew farther away as she grew into a woman.

But as those slow years passed, Snow White once more came to face the nights with apprehension.

For in the dark of her room, she lost herself in feelings that had been building steady inside her - ones that made her palms itch and body fidget as waves of heat pulsed through her.

They kept her awake and restless. The nightmares of her youth had vanished, just as the mother who used to comfort her was gone.

In both their place was Regina.

From the moment they met she had been the object of Snow's childish adoration, but as time went by that fondness had evolved into something almost palpable - strong and gusting like the castle drafts that had once sparked something entirely different within her.

Now, her nights were spent lying awake replaying a smile at dinner, a rare laugh as they took tea together, or their secret kiss - imagining Regina's eyes flashing with affection instead of disdain.

No matter the memory, her heart clenched as heat and wetness gathered between her legs. And in the darkness, Snow let a cautious hand drift down, breath catching at the contact.

Though she knew that the emotion blooming within her was made stronger each time she explored these tactile and new sensations, she left it unnamed and unspoken.

Yet every touch and gentle gasp reminded her that Regina was just down the hall.

It was a temptation that nightly increased, until one night Snow White was driven to Regina's door.

Her hand shook as she prepared to knock. Candles around her wavered as stale air moved through the hallway.

But before her knuckles met the wood of the door, it swung open. Appearing in its place was the queen, tense and angry.

Realizing her hand had paused mid motion, Snow let it fall to her side.

They looked at each other in silence, and when the older woman rose an eyebrow in question, Snow's voice trembled as she spoke.

"I had a nightmare."

The lie settled between them like dead air, but the flush on Snow's cheeks and her slow nervous breathing did little to obscure the truth.

Regina smirked.

"Aren't you a bit old for nightmares, dear?"

Snow swallowed thickly, and moved into the space between them.

As they came closer, she let her eyes drift over Regina's lips, her neck, her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders - rigid, even after the looseness of sleep.

Her body felt hot but ready to crumble and blow away like ash if the distance separating them remained.

Then Regina's eyes found her own, and Snow's body burned as they met in a rough and demanding kiss. For an instant, fantasies built up over time collapsed in the face of this tangible reality.

But as the kiss deepened, Regina's hands went to her shoulders - pushing her back and separating them with the suddenly closed door.

Snow felt the cold drafts of the castle wrap around her as she was once more alone.

Even so, the rejection was tempered by that brief instant when fantasy was no longer imagined. Snow reveled in that moment, lived in it, and in the nights to come it drove her to Regina's room again and again.

Some nights they kissed, and Snow's heart raced - heady with desire rather than fear.

More often, she was sent away with cavalier and cruel dismissals. The door to Regina's room being only one of many barriers.

Hardest of all were the nights when the line between fantasy and terror blurred. Nights when in one moment Snow felt Regina's hot breath on her neck - their breathing mingled - and in the next, her icy dismissal as Snow went back to her own chambers.

On those nights Snow's hopes rose and set with the dimly shining stars.

Still, she gave into her whims, _her yearning_ , again and again - caught between the desire to have her body sated and the fear that her heart would be broken.

And after months of back and forth, of being drawn in and pushed away, Regina let her in.

That night Snow White learned how blurred the lines between them could be.

It started with Regina pinning her against the heavy wooden doorframe. Snow arched into her, already desperate to feel Regina's lips on her own, but the queen held her firm, nipping along her jaw. When they finally kissed it was soft and languid, unlike any kiss they had ever shared.

The gentleness of it echoed throughout Snow's body. Though she knew not to touch - as doing so was grounds for a callous rejection - her restraint vanished as Regina's tongue traced the curve of her lower lip. Letting her hands roam openly, she ran her fingers over Regina's hips, her waist, her back.

But as she lost herself in the contact, Regina caught her curious hands and backed away still holding them. She regarded Snow with dark eyes, head tilted, and the corner of her mouth slightly raised.

Lifting her chin, Snow did her best to look determined - to show how badly she wanted this, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences.

And to her naive joy Regina pulled her inside, closing the door quietly behind them.

Settling next to each other on the queen's bed, the air around them - thick with tension - created space where they had touched only moments ago.

As they sat, despite her urge to look down at the hands resting lamely in her lap, Snow's eyes stayed fixed on Regina.

Swallowing, the princess moved closer, but the queen stayed where she was - still wearing a cool and amused expression.

Feelings of hesitance and _suspicion_ washed over Snow at the sight, but ignoring her better instincts she leaned forward to tentatively cup Regina's face and press their mouths together.

She trembled at the contact, and her apprehension faded as her excitement grew.

When their tongues met, Snow pushed her weight forward and found them falling backwards to lay more fully on the bed.

But as they hit, she lifted herself to see Regina laughing darkly under her.

Wariness flared once more, and Snow thought of pulling away, but a hand had woven its way into her hair coaxing her down into another kiss - hot and needy.

Giving in to the touch, Snow's heart beat wildly, her breathing fevered. Unable to focus on anything other than the feel of their bodies pressed against each other, she let Regina flip them.

Finding herself below the queen, body loose and expectant, Snow shifted and settled in their new position. But as she did, Regina pulled away, straddling her. Cold air filled the space between them, but for only a heartbeat, a breath, because she quickly bent back down to suck along the column of Snow's neck - biting in places with a sharp pain to be followed by the soothing run of her tongue.

The few candles lighting the room wavered dimly.

Moving down her body and unlacing her nightclothes, Snow felt her breath catch as Regina's hands ran over her breasts, circling a taut nipple then dipping lower to feel the curve of her hips and softness of her stomach.

It made Snow's body burn and come alive, as if Regina had fire in her palms and fingertips.

Then her hands slid beneath the thin material of Snow's nightclothes, inching closer to something she had only dared dream of.

Though Regina's movements were achingly slow - teasing with featherlight touches on Snow's inner thigh - when she finally pushed a gentle finger inside, Snow felt her body tighten and still.

For a moment, the shallow rise and fall of their breathing was the only movement in the darkness.

But after a moment, Regina curved her finger and let her thumb brush just _there_.

Snow's body jolted.

Gripping at Regina's shoulders she pulled them closer together. As she did, a steady rhythm began and a second finger joined the first.

Slowly, the pace between them quickened, fingers thrusting and lips meeting in hot wet kisses.

Then, Snow felt her body tense as if every muscle in her was tight with anticipation. And all her nights alone, every fantasy, every sleepless dream, could not have prepared her for the wave of release that finally came.

But as she calmed herself, shamelessly panting and still aching for Regina's nearness, she saw it.

It was as though Snow's mind had cleared enough to see something that was now so painfully obvious.

Regina was hurting and angry.

The lines around her lips, the darkness edging her eyes, the way she filched at nearness, all testified to its truth.

Before Snow could do anything to understand the gravity of her realization, Regina recognized it for what it was. Her soft brown eyes turned dark again. Her flushed face turned even redder with anger, and she pulled away and stood.

"Get out."

Snow felt her chest constrict as she sat up confused and vulnerable.

"Regina - "

"Get out."

The finality in her words had Snow's throat tighten and burn, but she slipped off the bed and walked to the door.

As it shut heavily behind her, she watched the candles waver and cast shadows - blurred by her brimming tears.

This was the price for her pleasure. Snow White finally saw Regina's pain, her anger, her _hate_.

But even in the wake of that night, the yearning that had pulled her to Regina's door was unchanged and untempered.

So despite her best judgements and reliant on hope alone, she returned to the queen's chambers again and again for the chance to suffer in the darkness of their shared nights.

Because Snow White's nightmares had returned to her - burning like fire and wind and tasting of Regina.


	9. Limbo

Leopold was dead.

His sudden passing and the shock of the genies' betrayal rang through the castle and kingdom - sharpening the sorrow of mourning with notes of suspicion and uncertainty.

But Regina was at peace.

She felt ready to breathe again. As if until this moment, the air stung her with each inhale. As though it had been saturated with a loss of innocence, the manipulations of her mother, the cruelties of her husband, and the selfishness of Snow White.

Even now, walking beside her after the discomfort of Leopold's wake, Regina was struck by the colors of the royal gardens. Once they had seemed too bright - the calla lilies, chrysanthemums, and hydrangea blossoms draining life from her apple tree making its fruit sour and rot before its season.

Now, they were muted and subdued.

Next to her, Snow sighed deeply drawing Regina's attention. Expecting the sigh to preface another fit of tears, she was surprised when Snow intertwined their hands seeking a comfort in it that surely was not there.

Since her father's death, she had been like this. In one moment she was needy and longing, only to look at Regina with flashes of mistrust in the next. But if she knew what was to come she seemed already resigned to it.

"Regina?"

Her voice held the watered sound of unshed tears and the exhaustion of grief.

"Yes, dear?"

"Did you mean what you said? That you would be here for me?"

Repressing a dark smile, Regina reiterated what she had said earlier that day.

"Of course. Truly and forever."

Nodding in response, Regina watched Snow struggle between the hope that this assurance would ring true and the suspicion that the calm between them was owed only to a coming destruction.

Because this short peace was neither of their shelter. Regina's judgement had been made and Snow's fate already decided.

Even when they had embraced in front of Leopold's coffin, Regina had felt the promise of those words coil around her heart. But the blackness already settled there left no space. No comfort, no happiness, no love would find her until the slow growing traumas of her married life were destroyed, until Snow White, who had long contributed to the poison snaking through her body, was dead.

As they continued to walk in silence, Snow's hand still gripping lightly at Regina's, she thought about how much she hated this girl. The girl who had betrayed her. The girl who then demanded her love and attention. The girl who had caused all of her suffering and now would be spared her own by the mercy of death.

Though it may have been a small mercy, it was the last measure of restraint Regina could allow herself.

Snow's death was her salvation. It would free her from the darkness that had been working its way into her heart since Daniel's death.

But still, the absence of love that had been a constant ache haunting her life in this castle, seemed so strong now against the relatively peaceful backdrop of impending conclusion. Plans were laid, blood had been shed, and there was little to do now other than mourn.

Not Leopold. Never Leopold. But his death marked many others - the death of Regina's imprisonment, her misery, of Snow White and the future they might have shared, a future which should have died with Daniel but stubbornly persisted, rooting itself in moments she should never have allowed, ones that clouded her judgement, and would scandalize them both if they ever came to light.

Yet any flashes of warmth and affection she felt for Snow could not have been real. She told herself that they were only waves of heat from the fire surrounding her. And though Regina had already burnt, Snow's skin was as white and unblemished as ever.

Nearing the corridor that led from the garden to their respective rooms, Snow suddenly brought them to a halt. She pulled at Regina's hand, holding it to her chest just above her heart.

Regina felt the darkness in her swell, craving to reach into her and touch it.

Instead, she swallowed her hate and ran the fingers of her other hand through Snow's dark hair before cupping her face.

They kissed soft and delicate, tasting too much of broken promises. And as they pulled apart, the pleading sadness on Snow's face hit Regina with an intense wave of pain and revulsion. She tried to move away, but Snow grasped at her, as if there was something in the her touch that could heal her hurt, could sate her desire for requital, could erase Snow's part in her downfall.

But her desire to understand, to forgive, for them to be together, was years too late and ultimately would not save her.

No matter how childishly Snow tried to keep from hurting, from being alone, from facing the consequences of her actions, her death was a promise that Regina clung to with the same desperation that Snow clung to her now.

So she gingerly backed away, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Snow's ear, and doing her best to temper her emotions.

"You need your rest, dear."

Patting a still tear stained cheek as she spoke, Regina's stomach roiled at how forced and unbefitting the gesture of maternal comfort was for their relationship.

Yet, Snow nodded and turned down the hallway to return to her room.

Watching her walk, Regina thought for a moment she would turn back and ask again if she had truly meant what she'd said, or if it had only been an empty platitude.

When she didn't, Regina could not help the dark look the spread over her face.

Tomorrow morning the peace and sadness that had settled around them would crack with betrayal, unsuppressed anger, and death.

And only one of their promises would remain unbroken.


	10. Ante-Purgatory - The Excommunicate

Opening her eyes, Regina lay still. Taking in her new and unfamiliar surroundings, she feared that moving too soon would disrupt it - reveal it as a fantasy not yet achieved. But as the moments passed, she could not deny the softness of foreign fabrics against her skin, the sharp clean lines of a room decidedly not of the Enchanted Forest, and the tentative feelings of relief and elation at having won.

This was real. Her curse had worked.

Sitting up, she let a wide and unguarded smile spread across her face. Her body felt lighter than it had in years, and this was the first morning in recent memory she awoke well rested. Moving from the bed to a nearby window Regina pulled the curtain back, and her smile grew brighter as she looked through the uncommonly clear glass.

This was not the world of her suffering.

As she dressed in fine albeit scant clothing, she marveled at the structure of this new realm. Everything around her was a wonder. Objects so unlike anything she had ever seen piqued her interest even as the magic of the curse supplied her with their purpose and use.

Leaving her home, she instinctively walked in the direction of her office. Crossing paths with several cursed iterations of her former foes, she inwardly chuckled at how humiliated they would be by their current states. Even store fronts and street signs used word play to make mockeries of those who had once stood against her.

Countless details culminated to make this place a testament to her triumph, and Regina, still smiling, tried to take in all of them. Until, with a sudden crash, the vision of her victory was disrupted.

Startled, she regained her balance and composure, just as she saw who had run into her.

 _Snow White._

No, she reminded herself, this was not Snow White. This was Mary Margaret. Mild-mannered, timid, and shaking at the sight of Regina's anger, she was the ultimate affront to the headstrong princess.

So vastly different from the girl Regina remembered, it only took a few careful words to belittle her - to add insult to an injury she didn't even remember. But putting her in her place was all the assurance Regina required to believe that this was her happy ending.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina realized with a vague sense of panic that this was not the first time.

Dressing quickly, she left without taking time to bask in the marvels of this new world. But even in her rush, she knew that the sheen of their newness would have dulled with time passed and impressions already formed.

This suspicion only strengthened as she walked streets that were too familiar, their tongue in cheek store fronts less quippy than they should have been.

Caught up in trying to remember why she recognized so much of this place - a place that was supposed to have been a new realm, a new life, a new promise for her future - Regina did not see the figure quickly coming up on her. Not until their bodies collided did she realize who she was looking at.

 _Snow White._

Rage flared within her, a welcome change from her dread and the insistent feeling of deja vu - even as this too brought on another flash of cloudy familiarity.

"Watch where you're going Miss Blanchard." She snapped, voice laced with vehemence.

The school teacher nodded before bowing her head and speeding off in the opposite direction.

Watching her leave, Regina sneered. Though the feeling of unease did not dissipate, Mary Margaret gave her hope that happiness might still be found here.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina's mind swelled with vague memories of mornings starting the same way - hazy recollections of days and months she didn't remember living but seemingly had.

When she realized what it meant, the pressure building behind her forehead diminished and was swiftly replaced by a rush of anger.

Standing and dressing in clothes she knew she had worn to conferences, city council gatherings, and school board meetings, Regina spared no more than a passing glance at the items decorating her home or the equally mundane faces she passed as she headed to her office.

Keeping her head down, she tried to remember how many times this had happened. But memories felt vague and ran together as she recalled them.

That is, until she crashed into Mary Margaret Blanchard and knew with certainty that this had already taken place.

That thought infuriated her.

Narrowing her eyes, her vision went red, and Mary Margaret's clumsily uttered apology barely registered.

"Miss Blanchard, are you seriously as inept at watching where you walk as you are in every other aspect of your life? It's remarkable you manage to find your way to the classroom every morning let alone teach in it."

The younger woman was frozen in fear, and that too felt upsettingly familiar.

When a beat passed in silence, Regina rolled her eyes and walked past the school teacher, shouldering her hard enough that her purse fell with a thud to the sidewalk.

The sound of it hitting pavement did bring on a momentary instant of happiness. Then, another foggy scene played in her mind, and Regina's body hummed with an anger she thought she had abandoned in another world.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina barely had time to sit up before her head was filling with scenes of her life under the curse. Not quite memories, rather murky recollections of cooking dinner, filing paperwork at city hall, and realizing again and again that her curse was looping.

Tucking a dark lock of hair behind her ear, she vowed that from now on she would track the mornings she woke with this feeling.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina cursed and realized that she had lost count.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina rolled her head to the side. This had happened before. It had all happened before. Maybe ten times, maybe one hundred, maybe one thousand. Vague memories slipped back into her head, but she paid them no mind. No matter what she did nothing changed.

She wanted to be angry, until she recalled that she'd already been angry.

She wanted to be spiteful and inflict her frustration on those trapped here with her. Then, scenes flashed through her mind, already repeated, already played out.

After what felt like years of laying unmoving in bed, hoping and praying that this was not real, that her curse had not betrayed her, Regina rose.

Slipping on a black pantsuit that she faintly remembered being one of her favorites, she set out to her office.

As she walked listless along streets she could not bring herself to care about, she suddenly found herself face to face with Mary Margaret Blanchard just before the younger woman tripped and fell into her.

Reaching out, Regina caught them both in an awkward half step back. Mary Margaret looked up sheepishly but when she recognized who was propping her up she quickly pulled away.

"Madame Mayor, I'm so sorry!"

Opening her mouth, ready to dispense some cruel or callous remark, she found that none came. Her mind was too full of half memories and the rest of her weary and dispirited because of it.

"It's fine, Miss Blanchard. Just try to pay more attention in the future."

But as Regina continued past the shocked still school teacher, she doubted that such a future would ever come. Not even knowing the exact number of days until the curse reset would make a difference.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina had felt sure that last night should have been the last of this cycle, but as she rose to a town she already knew and a clear mind free of detached memories sliding into place, she assured herself that her count must simply have been off.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina blinked and shut them again. As she pressed the palms of her hands against her temples she tried herself stop from crying.

Biting her lower lip, she forced herself to get up and dress. There was no point fighting it. Though there were days she wanted to lie in bed until her body decomposed, disintegrating into cotton sheets, eventually the curse would reset and with her propensity for misfortune she would simply awake to endure it all again.

So, heading out the door to go to her office, she nodded at her neighbors and tried to tamp down the urge to scream when she recognized their routines a little too well.

Then, something pushed her off kilter and unable to work up the energy to stop it, Regina let herself fall. As her back hit cement, she held out her hands to keep Mary Margaret Blanchard from falling onto her face first.

"Madame Mayor, I'm so sorry!"

Clumsily standing, she tried to help Regina off the sidewalk. They teetered together awkwardly before stilling and pulling apart.

"It's fine, Miss Blanchard. Are you alright?"

Mary Margaret's eyes narrowed.

" _I'm_ fine. _You're_ not hurt though are you?"

"I'm alright."

But Mary Margaret was scanning her, searching for something, when finally her gaze settled just above Regina's knees.

"Your skirt is torn."

Looking down she realized there was in fact a tear. Lowering an arm she ran her fingers over the frayed material.

"I can sew."

Looking back up, Regina frowned.

"What are you proposing exactly, Miss Blanchard? That I strip in the middle of the road so you can practice your domestics?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"No, but I can pick it up from you - at _another_ time."

There was a pause as Regina tried to determine whether 'another time' would fall within this current loop, but as she decided it most likely wouldn't Mary Margaret added;

"It's my fault it's torn, I really should."

Sighing and nodding, she acquiesced.

"There's really no need, but if you insist."

It wasn't like she'd remember. This conversation had as much meaning as any of the other hundred wordless and indistinguishable ones they'd had before. It was better to simply agree and move on with the day.

But even as Regina continued in the direction of city hall, Mary Margaret's face shown bright with happiness.

*

Little more than week later, there was a knock at her door.

The sound startled Regina, not in the least because there wasn't a single instant in her string of hazy recollections that she recalled hearing that sound.

Her shock grew when she opened it and found Mary Margaret smiling at her.

"I came to get your skirt."

"Excuse me?"

Her smile faltered.

"From the other morning when I knocked you over?" Her brows were coming together, and she must have thought that Regina had forgotten, because she added, "It tore?"

But Regina did remember. Counting days back, trying to sort through a miscellany of remote memories, she had been sure that the curse would reboot. Loop after loop she had counted, measured, come to understand precisely when she could expect to wake with a foggy head and a sense of forlorn hopelessness.

Realizing she was still standing in the doorway, she moved to the side, allowing Mary Margaret space to come in.

This wasn't the first time she had been off, but as she led the younger woman into her foyer, then her living room, she continued to sort days apart, organizing the timeline by which they all were bound.

"I don't mean to pry Mayor Mills, but are you feeling ok?"

Regina turned and faced her.

"Why? Do I seem unwell to you?"

Shuffling uncomfortably, Mary Margaret avoided eye contact as she answered.

"Maybe a little on edge?"

Of course she was on edge - last night, three days ago, it should have come.

"I didn't realize you knew me well enough to make such an assessment. Or perhaps you're conflating teaching fourth grade science with psychiatry."

The cruelty should have been a comfort, but when Mary Margaret's jaw set and she turned to walk back towards the front door, Regina reached out with a hand on her wrist and apologized.

"I'm sorry."

So, she had been off. It didn't matter. Tonight surely the curse would reset, and undo this conversation, undo the way she was vacillating between apathy and anger, undo the way Mary Margret was looking at her a little afraid but gravitating closer even as Regina let go of her arm.

"Are you sure you're not unwell?"

Placing a gentle hand on her forehead, the younger woman's face was too kind and too caring.

She should have pulled back. But seeing Mary Margaret's face go red and bashful upon realizing that Regina was staring at her, she replied,

"I'm sure I must be."

Then she pulled them together into a hard kiss.

Damn the curse, she thought. What difference would it make when the morning would undo the night's transgressions.

So, Regina pushed Mary Margaret up the stairs, marveling at how readily, how intensely she was responding. Her breathing was heavy and shallow, her eyes dark, and her body arching up trying to find contact wherever it came.

But at least this woman wanting her was familiar in a way that didn't make her head ache and hands tremble as rage slowly turned to despondency at life repeating like some sick game she would never win.

It only brought on flashes of the days before the curse, when Snow was young and wanted something Regina should have never have indulged. Now, a world away Mary Margaret was drawing on that, on a life she'd never lived and memories that no longer warned her that the fire she played with had burned her before.

Regina thought about stopping then. It should have been easy to push her away. But, as soon as the thought emerged they were in her bedroom falling back against the bed. Hands roamed over, then under clothes. Tongues darted across newly bared skin, lower and lower until they were naked - Mary Margaret between her legs and Regina's hand in her hair coaxing her deeper.

Her only comfort was that in the morning neither of them would know.

*

Opening her eyes, Regina turned and saw Mary Margaret Blanchard laying in bed beside her, followed by a wave of unease when she realized she remembered why.

Time that once again should have passed into nothingness remained, and memories that usually came to her cloudy and dull were sharp and clear.

Her mind raced to understand what happened, why she remembered when she had revised her count, when she had been so sure that she was right.

Feeling a weight on her shoulder, Regina glanced down to see Mary Margaret cuddling into her. Chest constricting in panic, she roughly pushed the younger woman away.

"Get up."

As Mary Margaret started to wake, Regina picked up her scattered items of clothing and threw them towards where she still lay in bed.

"Regina?" Her voice was soft, and it just made the anger stronger. She had no right to speak so sweetly.

"Get dressed. You need to go."

Regina didn't look at her, and her tone left no space for discussion.

Ushering her down the stairs and out the door only half dressed and on the verge of tears, pieces of scattered memory started to fall into place. Cruelties lessening as the curse restarted again and again, days here or there when she thought she'd miscounted, rare kindnesses translating into surplus time.

But not just any kindnesses. For in the numberless swirl of moments that played in her head, one face turned up again and again - a constant fixture of this nonstop and repeated hell.

Mary Margaret. _Snow White._

It should have been obvious. She had always obstructed Regina's road to happiness, and apparently, even under the curse, it was no different. But whatever lesson she was meant to be learning, whatever god decided this was her punishment, that her happiness would be contingent upon the one she'd dedicated her life to hurting, deserved to be ripped from the sky and stepped on.

But if this was not to be her happy ending, it could at least be both their curse. Because even if she lived one hundred lifetimes she could not forgive Snow White.

So, Regina closed her eyes and waited for another day to pass and another morning to arrive.


End file.
